


it all comes back to you

by RiiasShorts



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Awkward Social Situations, Christmas, Dancing, Dysfunctional Family, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Holidate AU, Holiday Fic Exchange, Holidays, Idiots in Love, New Year's Eve, Party, Slow Burn, Smut, Valentine's Day, adopted family, choo choo all aboard the ryan gosling train, referenced oral sex, rey's ex-boyfriend
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:07:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27972824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiiasShorts/pseuds/RiiasShorts
Summary: Rey Kanata is sick of her mother pestering her about her relationship status. Ben Solo lives away from his parents and doesn't want to be alone on holidays. It's mutually beneficial, really, for them to start a totally platonic, no-strings-attached, holidays-only relationship. Makes perfect sense, right? What could go wrong?-or-A holiday AU based on the movie "Holidate"
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 7
Kudos: 32
Collections: Reylo Christmas Hallmark AU Collection





	it all comes back to you

**Author's Note:**

> hi lovelies! PLEASE read these author's notes, at least up to the ***
> 
> first off, im very very excited about this fic, and i want everyone to enjoy it, so i'll be using a lot of tags and cw's for each chapter that will be elaborated on in the end notes. 
> 
> that being said, chapter one's tags are from "christmas" to "valentine's day"
> 
> these chapters will be ~girthy~ hehe
> 
> all character names/appearances are star wars canon, but the characters themselves/their personalities are holidate canon. i just wanted you all to be able to put a face and name to the characters
> 
> this fic takes place in 2020-2021, but we're pretending covid never happened bc plot convenience 
> 
> ***
> 
> CWs (chapter 1) // cigarette smoking, one of the characters (not rey) is a mother of small children, ben is in a relationship with someone who is not rey (but there's no infidelity), very brief reference to prostitution, drunkenness of a minor character
> 
> okay in terms of pregnancy (because i want to be transparent here and let anyone know what's coming): no main characters are pregnant in this fic. there is a minor character who is heavily pregnant during one scene in a later chapter (i will warn in the notes of that chapter), and rey freaks out over the fact that she's pregnant, but it's because of who the father of the baby is. the mother is at a party very close to her due date, but she does not drink alcohol or engage in any other potentially harmful behaviors. i can specifically mark that section in that chapter if you'd like me to, just comment anonymously or dm me on twitter or something.

#### 

#### DECEMBER 25TH, NEWARK, NEW JERSEY

Rey hates Christmas. The lights, the holly-jolly, the cheer, all of it. If she had it her way, she’d be nose-deep in some trashy romance novel right now, her apartment perfectly un-decorated, and chocolate galore.

Unfortunately, she’s… here, at her mother’s house for the family Christmas celebration. As much as she loves her mom and siblings, this is the _last_ place she wants to be right now.

Which is why she’s smoking on the porch.

A cigarette hangs loosely from her lips as she steps quietly towards the door, trying not to alert anyone inside of her presence just yet. She’d told them she quit smoking, like, _months_ ago. And she did… kind of. She doesn’t smoke daily like she used to, she just lights a cigarette and smokes, say, right before she enters the shark-infested waters of Kanata family Christmas.

Glaring down at the stupid light-up Santa by the front door, she snuffs her cigarette out on its glowing red hat and tosses the stub into the bushes. Mentally preparing herself, she pulls an Altoid from her purse and sucks on it before knocking on the door.

Maz is quick to open it. She reaches for her daughter, then busies herself unzipping Rey’s coat. “Hi, Mom,” Rey grumbles, stepping into the house.

“What are you wearing, Rey? Don’t you have any nice clothes?” Maz asks, as quick to critique as ever.

Rey rolls her eyes, pulling her arm from the sleeve as Maz finally gets her coat off of her body. “I’m great, thanks for asking! How are you?” A sweatshirt and jeans are plenty nice for her, thank you very much.

Already completely and totally done with all this holiday bullshit, Rey storms farther into the house, leaving Maz to rush after her. Once she reaches the living room, Kaydel launches herself towards her, all smiles and warmth.

“Rey!” she greets happily, wrapping Rey in a hug.

Rey smiles. “Hey, Kaydel.” Even though she hates holidays, it’s always nice getting to see her older sister. 

Maz comes up next to them, surveying the chaos of the living room. Kaydel’s four children are playing near the Christmas tree, Finn and his girlfriend are on the couch in their own little world, and Aunt Holdo is… _oh god._

Aunt Holdo is splayed across the lap of a large man who’s occupying the armchair. The man is in full Santa gear, and Amilyn is wrapped in a far-too-revealing Santa dress. _Is that… is that latex?_ Rey wonders, trying desperately to avoid looking any closer than she absolutely has to. 

Snap comes up to Rey and Kaydel, wrapping his hand around his wife’s waist. “Hi there, Rey!” he says cheerfully. Both sisters smile up at him, Kaydel’s grin far more genuine than Rey’s. 

“Hi, Snap,” Rey replies awkwardly, nodding to him before leaving Kay and her husband in favor of the treats laid out on the counter. 

The family talks and drinks for a while, and then Maz, who’s been manning the kitchen diligently, announces that the ham is done, and they all go to get a plate before sitting down.

Rey pulls out her chair, her plate piled high with mostly carbs. In front of her, Kaydel helps her two daughters get settled at the table. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to eat with the rest of us?” she asks Rey.

An artificial smile crosses Rey’s features when she looks up at Kay. “No, thanks. I prefer to sit at the singles table.” She reaches for her vodka tonic and toasts to her sister before turning back to all four of Kay’s kids. 

She usually eats at the kid’s table. Kay’s two girls are adorable at ten and seven, and her boys tend to need a bit of a hand. Temmin, her youngest, is a toddler, so Rey watches him to make sure he doesn’t choke or something as he plays with his mashed potatoes. The girls talk animatedly, telling Rey about school and boys and friends. Rey smiles and listens, glad to have a distraction. 

After dinner, it’s time for presents. The whole family packs onto the couch and chairs, all centered around the fireplace and Christmas tree. Amilyn is, to no one’s surprise, once again sprawled out over the man’s - Ackbar’s, Rey remembers, Ackbar the mall Santa’s - lap. Rey is sitting between her siblings, Kaydel and Finn. They’re a strange little bunch, the Kanatas, the three of them all vastly different both personality-wise and appearance-wise, but they’re siblings all the same, brought together by Maz’s search for children, since she couldn’t have any of her own. Kaydel had even added Kanata to her name when she married Snap, taking the opportunity to change her name from Kaydel Connix to Kaydel Kanata Wexley (she’d refused to hyphenate). Finn and Rey had had their names changed at the time of their adoption all those years ago.

Kaydel’s kids take turns handing out presents, and the family goes one-by-one until there’s only one box left: Rey’s gift from Kaydel (though her sister had graciously written “The Wexleys”, they both knew it was only really from Kay). Her smile just a _little_ pained, Rey tears open the wrapping paper and pulls, from the box inside, a pair of plaid pajama pants. Under them is a matching button-up shirt, and Rey picks both out of the ruins of the wrapping.

_Holy shit, these are huge,_ Rey realizes, trying to determine the waist size without looking like that was what she’s doing.

Nonetheless, she turns to Kaydel. “Thanks!”

Her sister grins back. “Of course! I thought they’d be perfect for a cozy day in or something.”

_“Or something” indeed._

Looking around, Rey realizes they were all done opening presents, so she stands up and traipses towards the kitchen. Behind her, Finn stands up as well. “Hold on, everyone, there’s one more thing,” he says, grabbing Rose’s hand.

“Dessert?” Rey suggests, turning around to beckon the rest of the--

_Oh my god._

Right in front of the Christmas tree, Finn is down on one knee, his hands clinging to Rose’s. “Rose,” he starts, “I know we’ve only been dating for three months and six days, but they’ve been the best three months and six days of my life. Will you marry me?”

Rey’s jaw damn near hits the floor.

“Yes!” Rose squeals, pulling Finn up so she can hug and kiss him. 

As the family fawns over the couple, Rey sneaks off into the darkness of the kitchen.

Finally, once everyone has showered Finn and Rose in congratulations, they eat dessert.

The night is drawing to a close when Amilyn sidles up next to Rey. Together, they watch Ackbar demolish a platter of cookies. 

Amilyn sighs. “He’s a sweetie.” Rey can only nod. “I met him at the mall. He’s just a holidate, though. Nothing serious.” She tilts her head as she scrutinizes the poor man.

Meanwhile, Rey turns to look at her. “A _holidate_?”

“You know,” Amilyn says, shrugging, “a date for the holiday and nothing else. No commitment, no strings attached.”

Rey hums noncommittally, but the gears in her brain are already turning.

***

#### DECEMBER 25TH, NEW BRUNSWICK, NEW JERSEY

Ben trails Gwen as she rounds the car. Looking up at the pristine exterior of her parent’s house, he takes a deep breath and braces himself.

“You told them we’ve only been dating for like a month, right?” he asks her, his anxiety bleeding into his voice. 

Gwen throws an easy smile over her shoulder, bounding up the steps to the front door. “Of course!”

“And they know we’re casual?”

“Yep.”

“So they aren’t going to ask me when I’m going to,” he rambles nervously, watching Gwen knock on the front door, “ _marry_ you or anything?”

Before she can respond, the door swings open, and Gwen is immediately swept into the arms of her parents. Both her mother and her father are clad in matching ugly sweaters, and the three of them squeal excitedly as they fawn over each other, leaving Ben just… standing… on the porch. He smiles politely when her mother looks up at him, her reddened cheeks contrasting with the stark white of her hair - even whiter than Gwen’s platinum blonde.

“You must be Ben,” the woman gushes, reaching to grab his arm. Her grip strangely strong, she yanks Ben into the house with her husband and daughter in tow.

“Merry Christmas, you two!” both parents exclaim as Mrs. Phasma leads them all into the living room. The house is pristine, every corner dusted and shined, and Ben can’t help but feel like he’s in _way_ over his head.

Realizing they were waiting for him to return the sentiment, he smiles up at Mr. and Mrs. Phasma nervously. “Merry Christmas!”

“Oh! Here we go,” Mrs. Phasma says, smiling eagerly at him. She marches over to an oversized armchair and picks up a giant photo album sitting on the table beside it. “Time to show you all of Gwen’s baby pictures!”

It takes every bit of strength he possesses not to groan. 

After an excessive amount of time sharing the goddamn armchair with Mrs. Phasma and pouring over album after album of pictures and print-outs and polaroids of young Gwen, the older woman drags Ben into her daughter’s childhood bedroom.

Suffice to say, it’s the exact opposite of what Ben expected. Where grown-up Gwen is sleek and elegant, androgynous and strong, this bedroom screams girly-girl. The walls are painted a frankly _ridiculous_ shade of pink, and every inch of space is covered with a doll, frill, or tiara.

Mrs. Phasma pulls him towards the shelves on the far wall, which hold crowns and tiaras and trophies all safely kept in plastic and glass boxes. “Here’s the first prize she ever won,” she gushes, picking up the smallest tiara Ben has ever seen. 

He wonders what the fuck kind of competition awards their winners with doll-sized crowns.

“Mini Miss New Brunswick! She was only two.”

Ah. That explains it; it was a Gwen-sized tiara after all.

She goes through the rest of the awards, picking each one up and showing it to him before delicately placing it back on the shelf, right where it belongs. When she finally finishes, she turns to Ben. “Mr. Phasma and I just want you to know,” she tells him sincerely, “that we are fine with you and Gwen _sleeping together_ in this room.”

Ben splutters, not at all expecting her to say that, of all things. “No, no,” he insists, barely maintaining his smiling facade, “I won’t be staying the night.”

“Well, we can’t have that!” Mrs. Phasma exclaims, giving him a sickly sweet smile before bustling back out into the kitchen.

As soon as she’s gone, Gwen bursts into her room. “You were perfect,” she growls, launching herself at Ben. She grabs his shoulder and pulls him towards her, clawing at him as her lips claim his. Pulling away, she pushes him towards the bed. “My parents loved you.”

Fifteen minutes later, he and Gwen are back in the living room, Gwen’s lipstick faintly smudged and him feeling significantly more blissed-out than before. Having her _take the edge off_ definitely helped him loosen up.

What does _not_ help him loosen up is when her parents call, “Presents!”

He and Gwen are both handed ugly sweaters matching her parents’, and they hurriedly pull them over their shirts before Ben is pushed onto the couch and quickly sandwiched between Mr. and Mrs. Phasma. Gwen grabs a present and presses it into his hands.

“For you!” she tells him, grinning widely. Ben smiles awkwardly, carefully tearing the wrapping paper open and peeking at what’s inside. Under a layer of tissue paper, he finds a familiar tan fabric. When he recognizes a waistband, he looks up at her. “Pants!” he smiles, hoping he sounds more cheerful than pained. 

“Because golfers love khakis!” Gwen squeals, clapping excitedly. “I got you three sizes, so you can exchange the ones that don’t fit.”

She’s not wrong, per se, most golfers would be elated by a nice pair of khakis, but the thing is that his whole brand is _black_ khakis. And these are decidedly not black. He thinks back to when she’d said a couple dates ago that she’d googled him before their first date. These pants, if anything, prove that that was, in fact, a lie. Go figure.

Ben smiles up at her. “Thanks!” he forces out, his cheeks almost in pain with how much he’s forcing his smile. 

Gwen nods excitedly and then sits back, holding her hands in front of her. Ben stares at her. She wiggles a little bit. He keeps staring.

“Um…”

She opens her eyes. “We’re doing presents, right?” she asks, then closes her eyes and holds out her hands again.

Ben blinks. “You literally told me we _weren’t_ doing presents, that I didn’t have to bring any.”

“Oh,” Gwen says, her posture slackening and eyes fluttering open. “Right.”

“But— but here, let me,” he scrambles, trying to recover as he reaches for his wallet. “What if I give you some money?” Gwen’s brows furrow. He leafs through the cash, counting up how much he’s got on him. “Here,” he says, handing her a few bills, “how’s $40?”

Standing up, Gwen glares down at him. “Is it just because I gave you a blowjob?” Ben stands too, embarrassed by her transparency around her parents. “Do you think I’m— what, a _prostitute_?”

“No!” Ben rushes to clarify. “No, I just, I just thought, for a gift, you know. Everyone likes money!”

Gwen crosses her arms, defensive. “I want at least $80.”

Ten minutes later, he’s waiting for a Lyft on the Phasma’s front porch, $80 poorer plus however much this ride home is going to cost.

God, and he thought a Christmas alone was going to be bad.

***

#### DECEMBER 29TH, MANHATTAN MALL, MANHATTAN, NEW YORK

“Just— can’t I just get a refund?”

“No, sir, but I _can_ offer you a store credit.”

“I don’t want a store credit! I don’t want to come back here at all! These were a gift, for god’s sake!”

Rey groans, tired of listening to the jerk arguing with the checkout lady at the singular most overcrowded Gap store she’s ever been to. “Hurry up, man. Just take the store credit,” she butts in, deciding to take matters into her own hands. She stalks up to the checkout counter, throws the lady behind it a smile, and then turns to glare at the man. “Get a move on.” Then, she turns back to the woman. “Hey! I’d like to return these.”

The woman smiles tightly, clearly worried about the situation unfolding in front of her. “Right, er…” She takes the set of pajamas when Rey offers them to you.

“Can’t I just get a refund?” the man asks again, and Rey rolls her eyes but stays quiet. 

The poor woman arches her brow at him. “I can offer you a store credit of $73.97, but it’s against our policy to refund.”

“I’ll take them for $50,” a voice pipes up behind them. Both she and the man turn around, stunned into silence when they see the sweater-clad woman standing there. She looks grown, but her clothes are brightly colored and childish. 

“What?” the man asks.

The lady wrings her hands. “I said I’ll take them for $50.”

“That’s a terrible deal.”

“$50 and a coupon for a free pretzel.” The lady holds up a slip of paper with the logo of the pretzel kiosk on it.

“It’s that or the store credit,” Rey points out, though she’s clearly not welcome in the conversation, if the glare the man shoots her says anything about it. 

“Excuse me, ma’am?” the clerk chimes in, and Rey turns around. “Unfortunately, these are from… two winters ago, but I can offer you a refund for the current store price of $4.99.”

_Come_ on _Kaydel, two years ago?_

For whatever reason, Rey turns to look at the man. He sarcastically mouths, “$4.99!” at her, but Rey just rolls her eyes.

Whirling around, she faces the woman. “$55 for his and mine?” she throws out, motioning to her pajamas and the man’s pile of pants. 

The lady smiles. “Deal!”

“And the pretzel coupon!” Rey adds, smiling in victory when she gets a nod in return.

Ten minutes later, she has a wonderfully warm soft pretzel in her hand and the singular most annoying man she’s ever met following her.

“Do you know what you’re putting in your body?” he asks, eyeing her pretzel with disgust.

She swallows her bite. “Um, yes,” she scoffs. “Warmth and happiness.”

“How about way too much sodi—”

“Okay, shut up,” Rey interrupts. “What are you anyway, a personal trainer?”

The man chuckles. “Try professional golfer.”

“No fucking way,” Rey snorts, but the man seems serious. She turns to him, considering. Then she holds her hand out. “I’m Rey.”

The man seems confused, but he takes her hand anyway. “Ben.” His grip is firm as they shake.

“So,” Rey says awkwardly. “Given the three pairs of khakis, I’d guess your Christmas didn’t go too well.”

Ben snorts. “No it did not. I went with my girlfriend to her parents’ house, and it was questionable at best. I really should be calling her my ex-girlfriend now.”

“Ooh, that’s rough,” Rey sympathizes. “My family has a celebration every Christmas, and when all of us are together, things just never go the way I want them to.”

“Why would they? It’s family, after all.” 

Chuckling, Rey shrugs. “True.” She and Ben start walking forward towards the fountain in the atrium ahead. “At least your mom wasn’t sticking her nose into your love life.”

“At least your girlfriend didn’t accuse you of paying her for sex,” Ben counters.

Rey stops short. “Wait, what?”

“Yep.”

“No fucking way.”

He grins painfully. “Unfortunately, I’m not kidding. And my parents are all the way out in L.A., so I can’t really spend holidays with them, otherwise I may have been able to avoid that whole mess.”

“Ugh,” Rey sighs, laughing. “I wish relationships weren’t so hard. I just want a holidate, like my aunt talked about.”

“A _what?”_ Ben asks, his brow arching.

Rey smiles knowingly. “A holidate. Someone she just brings to holidays but isn’t actually in a relationship with.”

He’s silent for a moment, clearly trying to figure out what she’s just said. Then he shrugs. “It’s not a half-bad idea,” he admits.

“I know, right!”

They’re both quiet for a moment, a tension forming between them.

_Who’s gonna say it?_ Rey wonders

She throws caution to the wind. _Fuck it._

“You know, New Year’s Eve is coming up,” she segues awkwardly. “We could be holidates.”

Ben doesn’t look at her. “True. It’s pretty ideal. No strings attached, right? No boyfriend-girlfriend messiness, no sex?”

“Nope. I think it’ll be perfect.”

“Yeah,” he agrees. “Like, we don’t want to date, right?” Rey shakes her head. “I don’t find you attractive, I’m not looking for a girlfriend, and I have an extra ticket to the First Order party on the thirty first.”

Rey reels. _There is_ so _much to unpack there._

First of all, no, they don’t want to date, but did he _really_ have to throw her an underhanded insult like that? She didn’t need the bit about not being attractive. But still, they’d agreed not to have sex, so it’s not like it matters, but still, ouch.

Still— “Did you say you have an extra ticket to _the First Order?”_

Ben grins at her. “I did say that, didn’t I?”

“How did you get it? That party’s _notoriously_ hard to get into!”

He only shrugs. “I know a guy.”

“Wait, you aren’t like… involved in the mafia or anything, right? Because that was a very mafia thing to say.” _Is there a mafia for golfers?_ she wonders.

“I wish,” Ben responds, chuckling. “That would be way cooler than the truth. I seriously just have a friend who was able to get me on the list.”

Rey rounds on him. “So you’re not involved in, like, anything illegal, right?”

Ben looks down at her, making eye contact. “I’m not involved in anything illegal. Are you?”

“Yeah, actually, I’m a part of this drug trafficking ring—”

When she sees Ben’s horrified face, she stops.

“I’m _joking.”_

“Oh,” Ben exhales, blushing. “Right. Of course.”

Rey _loses_ it. She breaks down in laughter, doubled over, red-faced, the whole ordeal. When she finally recovers, she’s wiping tears from under her eyes. “Oh my god, your _face!”_

Ben winces. “Er, yeah.” Rey gets the message: he’s uncomfortable. She backs off and instead pulls her phone out of her purse.

“Here,” she says, pulling up a new contact and handing the device over to him. “Put in your number, and I’ll text you about details.”

***

#### DECEMBER 31ST, THE FIRST ORDER CLUB, MANHATTAN, NEW YORK

“Okay here’s the thing, though,” Rey says, setting down her wine glass to talk with her hands. She has to yell a little to be heard over the music, but this is important. “I hate that thing they do in romcoms where they pretend like the two main characters _aren’t_ going to fall in love. Like, everyone knows they are because it’s a fucking _romcom,_ but they’re all like, ‘Oh, I’m not dating right now.’” She sighs and takes a sip of champagne. “You’re never _not dating,_ right? And if Ryan Gosling confessed his undying love for me, I would be _insane_ to turn him down. I would jump on that train as fast as I could!”

Ben nods, taking a sip of his own flute. “I’d jump on the Ryan Gosling train.”

“Exactly! Ugh!” Exasperated, Rey flops back against the high-backed seat of the club’s couch.

A few minutes later, they’re standing at the railing of the mezzanine, people-watching and playing a stupid but fun game Ben had suggested.

“Look,” Rey says, tapping Ben’s arm to get his attention. “That one,” she points to one man who’s rubbing up on a scantily-clad woman, his tie loosened around his neck. “He has some kind of executive job in a giant business downtown, an ex-wife and three kids, and this is his first time going clubbing since the divorce, so he’s hitting it off with every woman he finds, hoping he can take them home tonight.”

Next to her, Ben nods. “That’s a good one.” He scans the crowd, then focuses on a visibly-distressed man standing over in a corner, wiping his face with a napkin. “Okay, he’s here with his girlfriend, and he’s definitely proposing at midnight.” Right as Ben finishes guessing, a woman walks up to the guy, grabbing his forearm and kissing his cheek. The man continues sweating but looks down at the woman, listens to her as she says something, then nods. The lady walks away, and Rey looks up at Ben. 

“Definitely,” she agrees. Her bladder squeezes uncomfortably, and she excuses herself before turning to go to the restroom. Just as she does, there’s a moment of recognition and _dear sweet baby Jesus._

Aunt Holdo walks up, clad in a dress very clearly not meant for a woman her age, her hand wrapped around the forearm of a girl who looks to be about as old as Rey, maybe a few years younger.

“Rey, my darling!” Holdo calls, pulling the woman after her as she marches to the crowd towards Rey. 

“Look out,” Rey whispers to Ben, then turns back to Amilyn and waves awkwardly. “Hey, Aunt Amilyn.”

“Fancy seeing you here!”

Rey laughs, her eyes going from Amilyn to her date and back.

“Oh! How rude of me!” Amilyn exclaims. “Rey, meet Zoey. Zoey, meet Rey.”

“It’s Zorii,” the woman insists to Amilyn, then smiles at Rey. “Nice to meet you.”

Rey smiles apologetically. “You too.” 

“Who’s your boy toy, Rey?” Amilyn asks, her words just a bit slurred.

Her hand falls on Ben’s forearm as she refocuses on her visibly intoxicated aunt. “Um, Ben, this is my aunt Amilyn, and, uh, Amilyn, this is Ben.”

“Very nice to meet you,” Amilyn says, winking. 

Rey resists the urge to sigh. Instead, she smiles artificially. “Alright, well, I’m headed to the restroom, so I’ll see you later, Aunt Holdo!” 

Her aunt nods and pulls poor Zorii away, and Rey takes the opportunity to slink off to the restrooms. Inside, it’s blessedly quiet, only the rumbling of the bass audible through the heavy door. The whole space is decked out in deep red velvet, the lighting low and strangely romantic for a women’s restroom. Avoiding eye contact with everyone inside, Rey makes her way to the stalls and locks herself inside.

After she’s finished, she goes to wash her hands, and, in the process of getting to the sink, passes a girl, surrounded by a gaggle of her friends, who’s trying her very best not to cry as she stands in front of a mirror, her eyes wide with horror as she looks at the reflection of her white dress, marred with a giant red wine stain that spreads from the her chest to her stomach. As Rey washes her hands, it clicks that this is the girl she’d seen kissing that very nervous, weirdly sweaty, probably-proposing man. _Oh god._

She looks down at her dress, black, sexy, and pristine, then back at the woman’s. Any other day, she wouldn’t give it a second thought, but Rey is willing to bet money that this girl will be engaged by 12:01, and she can’t let that memory be tainted by a stupid wine stain.

A few minutes later, Rey pushes her way through the crowd and finds Ben seated on a couch nearby. The second he sees her dress, his brows furrow. 

“What happened?”

Rey sits down. “Don’t ask.”

“Alrighty then.” He nods, then thinks for a moment. “So this hatred of romantic comedies…”

Rey chuckles. “Yeah?”

“Who ruined them for you?” It’s a simple enough question, but somehow it’s also the deepest one either of them has ever asked the other.

“Ah,” she starts, “well, that would be my ex-boyfriend.”

“Figures. What was his name?” Ben asks, and, to her surprise, he seems genuinely interested.

“Dopheld Mitaka.”

He nearly snorts his drink. “What was that?”

Rey grins, happy to make fun of the bastard. “Dopheld,” she says slowly, enunciating, “Mitaka.”

“Wow. Okay. That’s quite a name.”

“That’s for fucking sure. He went by his last name too,” she tells him, rolling her eyes.

“Yeesh,” he winces. “Eccentric. Why didn’t you work out?”

“Well, I wanted a _boyfriend_ boyfriend, you know. Like a holidate but _real._ And he… well, he was more interested in getting some from everything that walked.” She hisses and winces dramatically. “Agh! Different interests, I guess.”

Ben cringes. “Sucks.”

“He was fantastic in bed, too, which made it even worse. Of course the good dicks never stay.”

She watches as Ben tries, and fails, to suppress his laughter. 

They have a really, really good time, actually. Rey, going in, had expected awkwardness and a lack of chemistry, but, as it turns out, they’re both goofs when left to their own devices, and the props laid out for partygoers only make it worse. Rey spends a good ten minutes trying to get his head inside the hole of a giant bubble wand. They dance like idiots and laugh so much that her stomach hurts a little. Even though he’d originally come off as uptight when they talked at the mall, Ben seems much looser and more youthful. He grabs a sparkler at one point and spins around, singing along to the music as the sparks come flying off of the stick and land in his flopping hair. Sure, he then proceeds to light the tablecloth on fire, but it’s the thought that counts. Thankfully, she thinks fast and dumps her glass of champagne on it, which puts out the flame.

They’re recovering from a particularly brutal round of _the Cupid Shuffle_ when Ben tells her he’s going to the restroom. She nods, and he disappears into the crowd. Of course, as soon as he’s gone, the DJ picks up the mic.

“Alright, New York, are you ready for the new year?!” Everyone yells, a few guys nearby letting out horribly obnoxious hoots and hollers. “Can I get a ‘fuck 2020’?!”

“Fuck 2020!” the crowd screams. 

Through it all, Rey stays quiet. With Ben in the bathroom, it dawns on her that she’ll be ringing in the new year completely alone. 

“Here we go! 10, 9, 8…” Everyone around her counts down, and Rey stands and wanders over to the railing of the mezzanine. “...3, 2, 1. Happy New Year!”

Confetti and balloons fall from the ceiling, and Rey watches the couples around her kiss. Some jazzy version of _Auld Lang Syne_ starts to play, and only then does Ben rush up behind her.

“Shit, I’m sorry, I totally missed it. Er— Happy New Year, I guess,” he says, then clumsily kisses her cheek.

Rey throws a halfhearted smile over her shoulder, her gaze still sweeping the crowd below her. In an area of the mezzanine along another wall, she recognizes the girl from the bathroom and her nervous boyfriend, who’s still sweating profusely but is now down on one knee.

Ben follows her gaze and sees the couple. “Wait, did you…?” Rey nods, smiling as bittersweet emotions flood her. It’s a sweet moment, but it makes her feel so profoundly _lonely._

New York City is lit up and busy as their taxi fights the post-ball drop traffic home. The partition is up, so she and Ben sit in awkward silence, the only sound being the local news playing far too quietly on the little screen in the divider between the front and back seats.

They both start talking at the exact same time, but Ben’s voice, being louder, squashes her own.

“I—”

“So, tonight wasn’t awful,” he states.

Unsure whether to take his comment as a compliment or an insult, Rey smiles stiffly.

He continues on, rubbing salt in the wound. “I mean, it could have been a lot worse.”

“Mhm.”

They’re quiet for a minute, and the air grows tense.

“So, uh,” he stammers, “any plans for Valentine’s Day?”

Rey scoffs. “That’s in February!”

“Yeah, well, it’s never too early to come up with a plan. Are you going to need a, er, _holidate?”_

Rey glares at him. “Well it’s not like I’d _know_ yet, but I think I’ll be fine with my boxed wine and chocolate.”

Finally, the cab pulls up outside her apartment building, and she fumbles, trying to get out of the stupid fucking car as soon as possible. 

“Well just text me if that changes!” Ben calls. “Happy N—”

She slams the door shut.

***

#### FEBRUARY 13TH, MANHATTAN MALL, MANHATTAN, NEW YORK

The smell of fudge has always been a favorite of Rey’s.

The air in her favorite candy shop is deliciously chocolatey, and Rey is happily browsing their selection, preparing for the inevitable sadness that will come with her definitively _single_ status the next day. When the bell above the door rings, she instinctively looks up, her arms full of various bags and packages and boxes of sweets.

There in the doorway stands, by whatever vindictive cosmic force, Dopheld Mitaka. 

Over 1.5 million people in Manhattan, and this _one_ person just happens to be in this _one_ candy shop on this _one_ day, same as her.

She hastily shoves the confections in her arms into a little pink basket as Mitaka strolls inside, his arm decorated by a tall, beautiful brunette. The girl kisses his cheek and wanders over to a shelf near the door as Mitaka approaches the display case of fudges.

As much as she tries to hide her presence, Mitaka’s eyes pick her out among the brightly-colored shelves. “Rey!”

Rey tries to smile, and she’s pretty sure she fails, but she still tries to play nice. “Mitaka! It’s, um, it’s great to see you!” She smooths her hair, then internally scolds herself for doing so.

“Dophie!” Rey hears, and the woman Mitaka had entered with walks up to him holding a gummy bear. “Here, try this.” He opens his mouth, and the girl presses the gummy against his tongue. His lips close around her finger, and he moans, and Rey would rather be _anywhere_ but here.

The brunette turns to Rey. “Where are your lollipops?”

It takes a second for Rey to realize that this woman thinks she’s an employee. “Oh, I don’t work here,” Rey says, a beat too late.

The woman’s eyes widen. “Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you were, like, restocking or something, with all of that.” She motions to Rey’s basket, and Rey fights the flush of embarrassment she can feel rising onto her cheeks. Instead of standing in stunned silence, something in Rey tells her to laugh like she’s just heard the _funniest_ joke ever, only when the laughter comes out, it sounds fake and brittle.

“No, no, just… buying stuff for the big day tomorrow!” 

The woman nods hesitantly. “Right…”

“Rey,” Mitaka interrupts, “this is Bazine, Bazine, this is Rey.” Both women nod and smile at each other, but it feels more like a stand-off than an introduction.

Just then, Ben suddenly appears at her side. “Come on, baby, are you ready to check out?”

Rey stares up at him, stunned and confused. “Wh-what?”

“You were gonna meet me outside, remember?” Ben asks, and he might as well be winking with the way his eyes are desperately urging her to _just go with it._

She slowly nods. “Right.” 

Ben then turns to Mitaka. “Ben, nice to meet you. I’m Rey’s, what do you call it, _boy toy.”_ Rey flushes at the implications while Ben offers his hand. Mitaka, clearly a bit put off, shakes it. “Maybe one day she’ll agree to something long-term, but you know.” 

_That one hit a bit too close to home._

“Well, babe, are you ready to head out? Thought we could stop and get you a little something at Victoria’s Secret.”

_Ben, Jesus Christ, stop laying it on so thick,_ she thinks, hoping he’ll become telepathic or something.

No such luck. In fact, the opposite happens, and Ben goes to tickle her waist. Rey bats his hand away, then turns to Mitaka and Bazine. 

“Well, it was great to see you,” she says, grabbing Ben’s arm perhaps a bit too roughly and steering him around the couple and out the door.

A minute later, they’re seated on the edge of the fountain where they first agreed on their little holidates thing. Frenzied, Rey dips her hand in the water and pats it on her heated cheeks. 

“God, that was awful, I’m going to be sick.”

Ben frantically pats his jacket pockets. “Here, here, here,” he says, handing her a little packet of tissues. Pulling one out, Rey tries to regulate her breathing as she processes _what the fuck_ just happened in that store.

Her mind having conjured the image of Bazine and Mitaka practically eye-fucking each other over that gummy bear, Rey groans. “She’s so much younger and hotter than me! What the _fuck.”_

“Well, I mean,” Ben says carefully, testing her reaction, “younger girls typically don’t—”

“Wait, fuck!” Rey interrupts him, looking down at her feet, where a little pink basket sits, filled with candies. She picks it up and holds it in front of Ben’s face. “I just stole these.” Thinking, she lowers the basket and presses it into herself. “I am not going back in there. Let’s just—if we eat it now, they’ll never know I stole it.” Panicked, she pulls open a box of chocolates, pulls one out, and holds it up to Ben’s mouth. “Here.”

“I’m a professional athlete, Rey,” Ben reminds her, holding up a green smoothie she hadn’t realized he’d been carrying the whole time. “I don’t eat junk.”

Rey’s mouth falls open. “It’s not junk! Have you tasted this stuff? It’s amazing!” She pauses then scoffs, “Golf isn’t really a _sport_ anyway.”

“Excuse you, golf takes an incredible amount of hand—”

“I literally do not care,” Rey cuts him off. “Here. Don’t be a pussy.” She holds the chocolate to his lips again, but he just bats it away.

“If I were a pussy, you would still be talking to your ex-boyfriend. Thankfully, I’m not, and now you’re not making a fool of yourself anymore.”

Relenting and eating the candy herself, Rey sighs. “Fine. You’re right. Is that what you wanted to hear.”

“Right, and now you’re…,” he trails off, clearly looking for her to finish his sentence.

Rey blinks at him. “Right that chocolate is amazing?”

“Well, yes, I mean _no,_ but no, you’re…”

She tries again. “Saved?”

“Grateful! I’m trying to get you to thank me!”

“Oh!” Rey flushes, realizing she should have thanked him earlier. “Thank you, Ben, I owe you.”

He nods. “Yes, you do.”

They sit in comfortable silence for a moment before Ben speaks again.

“Why didn’t you just call me today?”

Rey shrugs, trying to hide her insecurity. “I dunno. I was embarrassed, I guess.”

Ben turns towards her a little bit more, reaches out to touch her, then thinks better of it and drops his hand. “Look, part of our agreement should be that we aren’t going to judge each other, okay? Rule number one of holidates.”

Rey smiles sadly. “Rule number one.”

Standing up, Ben holds her hand out to her. “Can we agree to have a standing holidate on every holiday? Until further notice.”

Rey looks up at him, then takes his hand, a small smile growing on her face. “Deal.”

Ben smiles. “Now come on, you’ve got a date with your chocolate.”

**Author's Note:**

> let me know what you think (and if i missed any tags!)
> 
> im on [twitter](twitter.com/riiasshorts)
> 
> CWs (in more detail)  
> \- rey smokes a cigarette outside her family house. she mentions that her family thinks she has quit, but she still smokes occasionally, though not as often as earlier in her life  
> \- rey's sister kaydel has four children, all below the age of twelve. her pregnancies are not mentioned at all in this fic  
> \- at the beginning and in this chapter only, ben is dating gwen. they go to gwen's house for christmas, and gwen performs oral sex on ben, though that is only referenced, not described  
> \- when ben doesn't have a christmas present for gwen, he offers her cash. she jumps to the conclusion that he's paying for the oral sex she performed on him earlier in the evening and accuses him of thinking she's a prostitute. none of this is logical or rational.  
> \- rey's aunt amilyn is obviously drunk on new year's eve, but rey only interacts with her briefly


End file.
